


I’m a little kid, and so are you(don't you go and grow up before I do)

by goldenspecter



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Turtles, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, TCEST DNI, Turtle Tots (TMNT)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-24
Updated: 2021-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-28 17:21:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30142959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenspecter/pseuds/goldenspecter
Summary: The 2003 turtles somehow, someway ended up in the Rise verse, with Rise Splinter and his turtle tots, and stay with them while the boys try to figure out their way home. 2003 Raphael got attached to his tiny counterpart the moment he laid eyes on the tot. (Raph centric)
Relationships: Donatello & Leonardo & Michelangelo & Raphael (TMNT)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Is it really a good idea for me to be starting yet ANOTHER crossover when I have two that I haven't updated? Not to mention that I've haven't finished my first watch through of the series? No, probably not but here I am anyways, the chief of making bad choices. This is a birthday gift for sassatello! Tried combining two of their favorite characters, and I have this little behemoth in the making. Since I have a few plans for what I want to happen in this fic, this will be an ongoing thing, I don't know how often I'll be updating this because atm, I have school, upcoming college graduation, and an impending move having within the next few months. So I'll try to write whenever I get a moment to breathe(this goes for my other crossover fics too). 
> 
> Some things to note. Rise Raph will be written as a character who has Dissociative Identity Disorder(DID) and Autism. I, myself, am autistic but I do not have DID, will be doing some research to make sure that I write DID with as much accuracy and realism as possible, though there might be some minor liberties taken for narrative cohesion and flow-nothing overly egregious, that's for certain. The other Rise teetles and 2003 boys are neurodivergent too(ADHD)
> 
> Anyways, I think that's everything, hope you all like the fic.

Somehow, someway, Raphael and his brothers had ended up in another world. But he knew that it was not a dimension that was connected to theirs from the way the colors popped, how they glowed and shined in a way they had never done so back home or in any of the other dimensions that were connected to their Earth. He saw that there were people, humans, walking down the streets of New York, way more than what he saw during the day, more than what he saw at night time. Knowing that they were still on Earth, albeit a different one, was a relief to Raphael. 

Leonardo, ever the diligent one, suggested that they find the closest manhole and stay there until they could get their heads on straight. Raphael couldn't have agreed faster to such a plan, not that he ever tell Leo. Not knowing what dangers lied out there—Shredder, Bishop, outer space—on this Earth unnerved the turtle deeply, made him anxious in a way he hated. 

So they went to the sewers, and he relaxed his guard a bit once he was in a place that felt familiar to him, even if he knew nothing of these sewers. He wasn't sure how long they were in the sewers, or how deep they went into the sewer system, but they finally found a place to rest in. 

The only problem, it seemed, was that it appeared to be occupied. By who, the four turtles did not know, but they hoped that whoever resided here would be generous and kind enough to let them stay here for a short while. 

Their question would be answered soon enough, when a small green little blur ran out into the area that the four were standing in, who looked up at them with wide eyes. Michelangelo, ever the friendly guy, bent down on his knees and tried to wave hello to the little one, complete with a friendly smile. The little one, a  _ turtle _ , Raphael realized from the glimpse of a shell on the turtle's back and the little spikes on its arms, turned around and ran back to where they came from. 

"This might not be a good idea guys," Donatello said. "Maybe we should leave? Who knows what that little guy-"

Donatello's voice died out when they saw a short rat with black hair tied up in a high bun, a brownish robe with bright yellow trimmings, and a symbol embroidered in his robe that Raphael did not recognize. Had they walked into the lair of an enemy? But behind the rat, was the little turtle that they had just seen, with three more  _ tinier _ turtles with him. 

"Who are you?" The rat asked, in a tight, controlled voice. A voice that promised harm to Raphael, Donatello, Michaelangelo, and Leonardo if they did not give him a satisfactory answer and  _ fast. _ Raphael was certain that the rat was willing to see that promise to the end and he didn’t blame him. "What do you want?"

"You see," Leonardo started, clasping his hands together and moving them from side to side. "We're not from here."

"Where are you from then? Who sent you here?" questioned the rat. "Big Mama? Draxum?"

Who was this Big Mama? Draxum? Raphael looked to his brothers and they all shrugged, shaking their heads. 

"We… we have no clue who you're talking about," answered Leonardo. "If you'd let me, I can finish explaining."

The rat pushed his children back, pulling the spikey child away from the other turtles, closer to him. Once the child was close to him, the rat gave a quick, short nod. "You may continue," he said. 

"We're not from here, this world really," said Leonardo. "We don't know how we got here, and we're looking for a place to hide while we try to figure out how to get home." 

"And what does that have to do with me?" asked the rat unkindly. "What do you think I have to offer you?"

"Sanctuary," said Leonardo. "A place to stay while we try to get back to our homeworld."

The rat still stared at them, then looked down at the little turtles, then back at the four teenagers. "And if-if I let you stay here, while you do that, what will you do in return?" 

Leo held his hand up to his chin in thought. "We can help out," he said. "We can help with food."

"I can help with heating and whatnot," offered Donatello. "Fixing things, creating stuff, that's my thing."

Mikey grinned, "I like to think I'm good with kids. I can help out when they're being a handful or when you need a break." 

The rat turned to Raphael. "What about you?"

There was a moment of hesitation and then, "Uh… I can protect them," Raphael said. That was a given for all four of them, but being the protector was Raphael's thing, one of the many things he had proved himself to be excellent at. "I'll keep them safe."

The rat was quiet again, when the spikey turtle, this time, with the other little turtles, ran from behind their father and careened into Raphael's leg. He bent down, wondering why they all ran to him instead of Michelangelo, who was much better with kids than he was, but he didn't let that curiosity make itself known on his face. Instead, he cupped his hands around the four turtles, and brought them all up so he could get a closer look at him. 

They were small, so  _ small, _ was the first and most obvious thing he thought. They had to have been tinier than he and his brothers when they were this age. The one with orange spots—that had to be Tiny Mikey, no turtle could be so colorful, be as bright as the sun, and  _ not _ be Mikey—looked up at him with owlish eyes and smiled at him. The other two turtles, one with purple markings and the one with red markings only looked at him curiously. Then the last one, the spikey turtle, looked at him for a long while, before kissing his hand and patting it on Raphael's beak, as if he was transferring the kiss to the older turtle, as if he handpicked him personally for the job of protecting them.

The simple, yet affectionate gesture filled Raphael with so many questions. What was the deciding moment that their father decided to raise him and his brothers as his own? Was this sudden surge of emotions, this overwhelming need to protect, the same feelings his father had with them right after they first mutated? He wouldn't get an answer anytime soon since his father was not here, but he knew that he could not turn back from his role of protector. 

Not when their lives were depending on him doing his job, not when there were other little ones relying on him to keep them safe. 

Not when this little turtle had specifically picked him for the job. 

"I suppose that you all can stay," said the rat finally. "I see my boys had already taken a liking to the red one." 

Spikey turtle had kissed his hand again and patted Raphael's beak. 

Raphael would protect these kids with his life. 

* * *

The tiny turtles would not leave Raphael's hold. If their father or any of Raphael's brothers tried to take them out of his grasp, then they would start wailing. So for now, the baby turtles were left with Raphael. 

Raphael and his brothers had learned a little about them. The rat was named Splinter, and Michelangelo commented on how lucky they were that they had run into their other father first instead of a villain, or even worse, the Shredder. Raphael silently agreed, watching as Splinter tensed for a moment, suppressing a flinch, and wondered what the rat was hiding, if the rat had a history with the Shredder they weren't yet aware of.

They had also found out the identities of the baby turtles. 

As he correctly guessed, the littlest turtle with the orange spots was Mikey. The one with red markings on his face and yellow stripes on his arms and legs was Leo, while the one with the flat shell and purple markings was Donnie. 

That only left the turtle with the little tail, spikey shell, and spikey arms to be the tiny version of him. 

Baby Raph, Raphael found out, was the oldest at two and that he has just turned two not too long ago. Baby Mikey was still the youngest, at only a few months old. Baby Leo and Donnie were one-year-old twins, with Donnie being the elder of the two. 

It was a surprise to him and his brothers, to see the tiny versions of themselves to be wildly different species. It was a pleasant surprise to Raphael to find out that Baby Raph was the eldest in this world instead of Leonardo. 

Baby Raph, he noticed, had a little sharp tooth dangling over his bottom lip. He reached out to gently brush against the toddler's tooth when Splinter stopped him. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned. "Little Red is small, but he has a mighty bite. I am grateful that he doesn't have his big boy snapper teeth."

"He's a snapping turtle?" Leonardo questioned. 

"Alligator snapping turtle, to be specific," commented Donatello casually. "Because of the spikes on his shell, and because he doesn't seem as aggressive as common snappers." 

"Huh," said Raphael absently, moving to stroke Baby Raph's head, who appeared to enjoy the action, holding the older turtle's hand over his head to keep it there. 

Raphael smiled his first smile of the night. "You like that little guy?" 

Baby Raph's smile grew, and started babbling incoherently, as if he was trying to talk to Raphael. Raphael didn't know much about children, much less babies, but he felt that it was safe to assume that the little turtle was happy. 

Splinter stated that it was time for the kids to eat, and had heated up some rice for Baby Leo, Donnie, and Raph, and fed Mikey some baby food. Splinter had apologized for not having enough food for the older turtles but Leonardo waved him off, reassuring him that it was important that the children eat. Raphael couldn't have agreed more, watching the turtle tots eat their food, and on multiple occasions, having to politely refuse the three older babies' offerings of a few grains of rice on a clumsily handled, brightly colored plastic spoon. 

It was easy to get Leo and Donnie to stop offering him their much-needed nutrients, but little Raph was a challenge. After every spoonful or two Raph ate, the little snapper constantly held out his spoon for Raphael to take. Raphael would deny him, gently pushing the spoon back into the little boy's mouth and getting him to eat it. The little snapper frowned, and at one point, refused to let Raphael push the spoon away from him, holding it back out towards the elder every time Raphael refused. 

Raphael realized that he was fighting a losing battle—against himself, of all turtles. But he was a good turtle who knew how to take a loss in stride—at least that's what he liked to tell himself. So he took the spoon out of the child's hand and held it to his mouth, pretending to eat the little bit of rice on the spoon, made a dramatic show of chewing on the rice, and exclaimed how delicious the rice was. 

Little Raph had taken the bait, who beamed at Raphel before continuing to eat his rice. 

Raphael gave a small smile at how easy it was to appease the little turtle. 

Soon, the tiny turtles had finished eating, and Splinter had to wipe their faces, and give little Mikey a wipedown from all the baby food he had gotten all over his face. Mikey, like any baby, scrunched his face up in a frown as he squirmed and wriggled as Splinter tried to wipe his face free of the mush, only to return to the happy baby he was during dinner when Splinter finished. 

Splinter had let the turtle tots play in the common area, and Michelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, and Raphael followed them there. They watched as the younger three played with the toys, with his brothers watching over them while Raph wanted Raphael to play with him. 

Raphael didn't understand why this child wanted him specifically to play with him, but he couldn't find it in himself to turn the child's request down. Raphael was handed a toy phone, he took it out of Raph's hand, and held it in confusion. 

What does he do now? He looked to one of his brothers for help, but they were all engrossed in playing with the other boys. 

It seemed that he was on his own. Raph pressed a few buttons on the phone he had in his hand, and the phone in Raphael's hand rang. Unsure of what to do, he held the toy phone up to his ear. 

In response, Raph held the phone up to his ear and started babbling in the speaker end. Raphael nodded along, as if he was understanding what the younger was saying. He started talking back, about anything and everything, proud of himself as the snapper kept talking into the phone. 

The fake conversation soon got intense for Raph and Raphael. Raph started angrily babbling into the phone, and Raphael spoke into the phone trying to calm down the little guy, only for the tyke to stop mid conversation and stare at him with a smile, before resuming the happy babbles from moments ago. 

Raphael laughed a little at the toddler's quick shift in attitude, bemused by the whole thing. He had never thought that he would be interacting with little babies, other than the ones that April and Casey would have, or be playing with them and  _ enjoying _ it. But life always had weird plans for him and his brothers, and he had to learn how to go with the plans, even if he didn't understand it, even if he hated them, even if they made him deeply uncomfortable and as much as he was loathe to admit it,  _ afraid _ . 

If Michelangelo was close by, he would tell him that the universe laughed at them, and Michelangelo always laughed back. Raphael thought it wouldn't be such a bad idea to laugh back at the universe this time around. 

It seemed to have given him and his brothers such a good hand. 

_ This _ time. 

* * *

At some point, the baby turtles started losing their energy and started to slowly, but surely falling asleep. Splinter had noticed his tiny sons had started falling asleep, so he left and returned with a little crate in his hands. 

"Uhh, what's the box for?" asked Michelangelo. 

"They sleep in it," replied Splinter, scooping up Mikey to put him in the crate, who woke up before reaching his arms out for Michelangelo. Splinter sighed, and it was one that Raphael was familiar with, one that spoke of exhaustion. 

"Orange, you have a wonderfully soft crate with your blanket and bear waiting for you and your brothers," Splinter offered, holding out said bear for Mikey. Mikey took the bear from his father, yet he still wanted to be close to Michelangelo. 

"I see," said Splinter tiredly, watching as Michelangelo took Mikey into his arms. "Since it seems you will not sleep in your bed, neither will your brothers." 

Splinter looked at the four older turtles apologetically. "I do apologize, but do you mind-"

"It's-it's fine Master Splinter," Donatello said reassuringly. 

Splinter flinched again. "Please, just call me Splinter," he said. "No need for such formalities. It's not necessary while you're here with me." 

Raphael stared at Splinter. When had he not wanted to be referred to as Master? It didn't make sense, and it seemed like he wasn't the only one who caught onto that oddity, seeing that his brothers had all looked at each other before nodding. 

"Okay," they said. Raphael suspected that they would talk about it later, once the tots and Splinter went to sleep. 

Splinter had handed each one of the turtles a blanket that belonged to the turtles, apologizing that he didn't have any for them. Raphael didn't mind. The lair was a little cool anyways, and he had been in outer space and raced in an eternal blizzard, where it was downright freezing, too cold for a turtle like himself. 

This? This was nothing. This was a walk in the park. 

Eventually, the baby turtles fell asleep in each one of the boys' arms. Donatello had suggested that they have a little turtle pile so that way the four older turtles could keep their body heat and stay warm. Michelangelo eagerly agreed to a turtle pile, and Leonardo didn't object. The four of them huddled close to together, with the baby turtles close to their plastrons, and draped the blankets over the tots in such a way that it would definitely keep the tots warm, but also covered the older turtles, if only a little bit. 

Once the light was turned off, the four waited until they were certain that Splinter was gone for the night before they started talking. 

"I wasn't like, the only one who noticed how Splinter didn't like being called Master Splinter, right?" Michelangelo started off. 

"No, no, you're definitely not the only one," murmured Donatello. "I wonder what's up with that?"

"You think he's got some kind of history with the Shredder?" Leonardo asked. "He has to, right? From how he reacted to Mikey's comment earlier?"

"I dunno," said Raphael after a moment of silence. "I dunno, I guess we're gonna have to figure it out while we're here." 

"And if we do, Raphael," Leonardo started. "Do we-do we get involved?"

"We don't have a choice not to," said Donatello hesitantly. "These guys are too little to do so, and I-I don't want them to lose their Splinter." 

"We gotta keep them safe as long as we're able to while we're here," said Michelangelo.

Leonardo hadn't responded, but Raphael knew that his older brother agreed with Donatello and Michelangelo. 

"Let's-lets go to sleep guys," Leonardo said finally. "We've had quite the day."

Then one by one, they all went to sleep. Raphael was the last one to fall asleep, waiting for the peaceful snores of his brothers to reach his ears and to see the slow rise and fall of the tots' chest before he himself went to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

They had woken up early the next morning, and laid in silence with their own thoughts to occupy them until the tiny turtles woke up on their own accord. When the tiny turtles had woken up, they greeted the older turtles with big innocent grins, and Raphael found it impossible not to return Baby Raph's toothy lil grin. 

The four had quietly played with the tots while they waited for Splinter to wake up. When he had come out, he had taken the turtle tots out of their arms, presumably to get them started on their morning routine. Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, and Donatello informed Splinter that they would be hitting the junkyard, to find somethings for Donatello so he could find them a way home and so that they could start fixing this lair up into something livable and suitable for the tots. Splinter nodded, telling them of a junkyard that he frequented and told them how to get there. 

With a mission in mind, the four turtles made their way to the junkyard. It hadn't taken them too long to figure out where they were going, but they eventually made it to the junkyard. 

Standing at the edge of the junkyard, "Don, what kinda stuff are you looking for?" Raphael asked. 

"I'll need tools for one," Donatello started. "Circuit boards, wires, that sorta thing would also be fantastic if you can find it."

Leonardo nodded. "Alright guys, let's get to searching." he said, then added, "Make sure to stay close to one another, since we don't know what this world has in store for us."

Raphael silently nodded, before entering the junkyard to start searching for what Donnie needed. He wasn't sure how long they were there, but they had managed to find some things that Donnie needed to fix up the lair, but not something that would get them home. 

The only problem it seemed to be was carrying it. Before, they had the Battle Shell to carry their things, but now they have no Battle Shell to lighten the load. So it seemed as the only option they had was to carry the stuff back to the lair. 

In daylight, no less. 

But that was fine, because they were teenage mutant ninja turtles, who could do anything. Carrying a bunch of scrap and junk back to the lair was something they could do in their sleep.

* * *

So that was a fucking lie. 

Raphael was not sure when was the last time he had physically carried scrap and junk back to the lair, but this trip had reminded him why they always used the Battle Shell to carry their stuff. When the four turtles had made it back to the lair, Raphael was tempted to simply drop down the scrap the moment he stepped foot in the lair, but thought against it, not wanting the tiny tots to accidentally hurt themselves. 

Speaking of the tiny tots, they weren’t in the common area. Perhaps they were playing somewhere else, or they were eating. 

“The boys are sleeping,” Splinter said aloud, coming out of one of the rooms. “They will be excited to know that you have returned.”

“They’ve missed us?” Donatello asked. “We couldn’t have been gone for more than thirty minutes.”

Splinter nodded. “You were gone for at least two hours,” he said simply. “Baby Blue came out and sat right here, waiting for you to return. His brothers joined him too.”

The mutant rat glanced back to the room where the tots seemed to be sleeping. “They’ve grown attached to you, it seems,” he said, mostly to himself. Then he shook his head and turned his focus back to the four turtles. “I see that your venture to the junkyard appeared to be successful. Have you found anything that proved to be useful?”

“Well, we’ve found some stuff that could help the lair become more suitable,” said Donatello. “You have a place where we can place some of this stuff?”

Splinter quickly shifted his glance away from them. “I think there might be a place,” he said, and showed them a place where they could store the scraps. The four set down their piles of scrap, and Raphael was thankful that he was able to get rid of the weight in his arms. 

Donatello quietly thanked Splinter and there was now a silence that filled the room that no one quite knew how to fill. 

“Can I ask a question?” Michelangelo asked. Splinter’s shoulders slumped as he nodded his head, with a weight and heaviness that Raphael hadn’t seen in so long. 

“How… how did you get the little guys?” 

Splinter inhaled deeply, clenching his tiny rat fists together, and then released all the tension in his body. “That… is not a very happy story,” he answered. “Perhaps, I will tell you all one day, but not today.”

Raphael’s curiosity was heightened, but seeing how tense Splinter was and how unwilling he was to answer the question, did not push. At least, not now. 

“I must go check up on the boys,” Splinter said, starting to physically distance himself from Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Leonardo. 

Splinter left the room, and the four boys were once again left alone in the room. 

Donatello nudged his brothers to start sorting through the scraps, each one of the turtles left to stew in their thoughts while they did so. 

After a while, they finished sorting through the scraps. A good portion of it was something that Donnie was able to use. Raphael listened as the purple banded turtle discussed some of the things he could make in their rudimentary stages, such as heaters and AC, until they could figure out a way to get better units for the lair. Michelangelo had asked about refrigerators and stoves, how would they get food? Where would it be stored? 

Leonardo questioned how they would transport whatever they got. 

Donatello didn’t have answers for those questions. Raphael rested his head on Donatello’s shoulders while he thought. What would _they_ do for food? How would they get what they needed? 

Raphael was pulled out of his thoughts when a tiny hand rested on his leg. He lazily looked down to see Baby Raph happily patting his leg, who brought both of his hands down on the older turtle's leg when he noticed that Raphael had given him the attention the tot desired.

“Hey little guy,” he said gently. “You have a good nap?”

Baby Raph stilled for a moment, then nodded his head enthusiastically. “I’m glad to hear it, little man,” he said, picking up the tot when he held his arms out in what Raphael assumed to be picked up.

He noticed that Raph was by himself, his brothers nowhere to be found. “Where are your brothers?”

Baby Raph slowly pointed out of the room. 

“Are… are they still sleeping?” Raphael guessed. Baby Raph nodded. “I see. What about your… your dad?”

Baby Raph pointed out of the room again. “Is he sleeping too?” Raphael ventured, and the tot nodded. “I see. So you decided to find us?”

The toddler nodded his head. 

“I’d never thought Raph would be so good with kids,” commented Michelangelo. “Who’da thunk?”

Leonardo must have elbowed the youngest turtle because Michelangelo yelped in response. Raphael ignored the two of them in favor of the toddler in his arms, who was currently gently patting all over Raphael’s face and attempting to tug on the turtle’s red mask. 

“No, no, that’s my mask,” said Raphael, but to no avail. Raph’s tiny little fingers had found the tail ends of Raphael’s mask, tightly grabbing on them, and putting them in his mouth. 

Raphael wanted to pull the mask tails out of the tot’s mouth, but seeing that the tiny snapper was very content at the moment, didn’t want to mess with that. Maybe… maybe they should find something for the tot to stick in his mouth the next time they went topside. He made a mental note in his head to keep a lookout for something for really, all of them, to stick in their mouth when need be. 

So Raphael sat there and let his mask tails become coated in saliva, certain that his brothers would capture this 'Kodak moment' for future blackmail or whatnot if they were able to. But right now, he didn't care, the tot in his arms was content and that was all that mattered.

Moments later Splinter came into the room, frantic. and uneasy. “Have any of you seen Red?” he asked, holding the other three baby turtles in his arms. “I fell asleep by accident and woke up to see Red was gone.”

Raphael turned Raph to face Splinter. “The little guy decided to find us,” Raphael said awkwardly, holding the toddler out for his father. 

Splinter reached out for the tot, and pulled the little snapper close to his chest. “Red, you have no idea how worried I was for you,” he whispered to the little boy. “Please don’t scare Papa like that ever again.”

The toddler seemed to understand what Splinter was saying as he looked up at the mutant rat, and patted his face in acknowledgment. Splinter held his young son closer to him, planting on a small kiss on Raph’s forehead. 

“Did you have fun?” Splinter asked a few moments later with a gentle smile. 

“Judging by the slobber on Raphael’s mask tails, I’m going to say yes,” said Donatello. 

Splinter sighed, throwing a fake glare at the toddler. “Now Red, how many times have I told you not to put things that aren’t food in your mouth?” he asked. Raph simply gave his father a wide smile. “We’ll work on it, Little Red.”

The rat mutant looked towards the four teenagers. “Do you mind keeping an eye on as I go and search for our dinner?”

Michelangelo, Leonardo, Donatello, and Raphael all shook their heads. "We don't mind," Leonardo said. 

"Thank you boys so very, very much." 

Splinter set the turtle tots on the floor and they all stumbled their way over to Raphael, who picked them all up, and with that, Splinter left. 

"How come _you're_ their favorite?" Michelangelo whined. "Let me spend time with them." 

Raphael shrugged. "Dunno, beats me," he said. "Maybe they just know that _I'm_ the coolest turtle there was." 

"Are you saying that we aren't cool?" questioned Leonardo, slightly curious and amused. 

"Don's the second coolest," Raphael said. "You and Mikey tie for third." 

Offended, Michelangelo jerked a thumb at the eldest. "I'm tied with _him?"_ he squeaked out. "I won the Battle Nexus! Twice!! That has to make me a _little_ cooler than him!!"

Shaking his head, Raphael snickered. "Nah, still tied for third."

Michelangelo glowered as he bent down to face the tots. "That's just nonsense coming from someone who lost the Battle Nexus to me," he said with a coo, grinning as he tickled Baby Donnie's face and underneath his chin. Michelangelo was rewarded with a light giggle and he smiled harder in return. "You all know that I'm cooler than Raphie, don't you? Dontchu?"

Raphael stared blankly as Michelangelo continued to smack talk him to the tots but didn't bother doing anything about it. 

He’s not sure how long he and the tots have been playing together, but it had to have been long enough for Splinter to return with two boxes of pizza. 

“Pizza!” Michelangelo yelled out. “Sensei, how’d you know that pizza’s our favorite food?”

“Pizza is any teenager’s favorite food. It was not that hard to figure out,” said Splinter casually. The tots came over to him, greeting their father. Splinter set down the pizzas in favor of doling out affection to his boys. “Papa was gone for a while, wasn’t he? I sure you missed me, but I am back now, and I have dinner.”

Leo looks up at Splinter, pulling at the rat’s robes. “...mmm, mi-miss Papa!” Leo squealed out. 

Splinter only stared in shock. “You… you said your first words,” he said dumbly, then wheezed in laughter. “You said your first words!”

“Miss Papa!” Leo cried out again and wouldn’t stop repeating himself. “Miss Papa! Miss Papa!”

“This is such a sweet moment,” said Donatello. “Good thing we have pizza to celebrate, right?”

“Yea,” Raphael said gruffly, reaching out to grab a slice of pizza. He was just about to take a bite out of the pizza when he felt Raph pat his arm. 

Raphael looked down. “What? You want a bite?” he asked, chuckling when the tot mimed chewing on the pizza. “Alright, alright, hold on a moment. Let me see what I can do.”

Raphael tore a piece of the pizza crust off and fed it to the tot, who eagerly bit into the crust and scarfed down the rest of the pizza crust with Raphael having to warn him to slow down before he choked on the crust. Raph listened, and slowed down, looking up to Raphael to make sure he was doing it properly. 

"Ya doing good lil me," Raphael complimented. "Take small bites, like this?"

He then took a small bite to model what he wanted Raph to do. Raph nodded before doing exactly what Raphael had demonstrated. 

"Good job kiddo," said Raphael, and Raph beamed back at the older turtle. 

When Raph had finished eating his portion of pizza crust, Raphael tore off a piece of pizza, blew on it, and handed it to Raph. "Be careful, it's hot," he warned. 

Raph puffed his cheeks out and blew on the little piece he held in his hand. He looked up to Raphael for approval. "Yea, just like that."

Upon hearing Raphael's praise, Raph took a small bite out of his piece and chewed, and looked content as he did so. 

As Raph finished the piece he was handed, he opened and closed his fist, silently asking for more. Raphael tore off another piece of his pizza, and handed it to Raph, who happily took the offered piece and started his process all over again. 

Somehow, Raphael thought to himself, he didn't mind doing this.

* * *

The next night, when the tots went to sleep, this time with Splinter and while his brothers were doing their thing, Raphael went topside. 

The moment he stepped foot against cracked asphalt and concrete, Raphael felt a little at peace with himself. 

It felt amazing to have a little time to himself. 

He moved along the rooftops until he spotted a lone cardboard box sitting outside one of the buildings. Curious, Raphael jumped down the fire escape and crossed the street to get to the cardboard box. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the box had the words 'DONATION' messily scrawled on the sides. 

Maybe it had some baby items, some clothes, and toys for the kids to play on. "Couldn't hurt to take a look, now would it?" he said to himself. 

Rummaging through the box, he found a ton of stuff that would be appropriate for the tot. To top it all off, he found a few things that he thought his brothers might like and a bag to carry his treasure that he found. Raphael put the stuff in his bag and moved away from the donation box, lest he caught the attention of any… unsavory folks. 

He got back onto the rooftops, where he belonged, where he could see all of the world laid out in front of him, and resumed his run across the rooftops until something caught his eye… _again._

This time it was just a simple old lady pushing a shopping cart, who turned into an alley. There was nothing special about her, he told himself, she was just an ordinary old _human_ lady who was going about her business. Nothing about this required him to get involved. 

That was, until he saw her hand become surrounded in a blues fire, and the graffiti warped itself, revealing something that Raphael could not quite decipher. The old woman—was she even human?—went into the wall and the graffiti snapped back to its normal self. 

…

_…_

Well, Raphael had been expecting a twist, some weird quirk for this world they ended up in to have, because he just _knew_ something was up with this world, and now that he had it, now that he knew it and _saw it_ , now that he was right, he had no clue what to think. 

Actually, he did. He had one thought and it was simply 'What the fuck?' running through his head for two main reasons. 

Reason one: What kind of world had they landed in? What secrets and dangers awaited them? 

Reason two: Raphael Splinterson was going to be the foolish mutant turtle who was going to investigate. It was the same sort of thing he would get on Leo about, but here he was, about to do something he would most definitely yell at Leo for. 

Raphael made his way over the alley, and shifted his weight to one foot and rested a hand on his hip as he tried to figure out how to enter the place. Didn't the lady make some kind of motion with her hand to get in? He tried to mimic the motion she made, only for no blue flames to cover his hands. Not wanting to get discouraged, he tried again. 

No blue flames, _again._ The skull on the graffiti piece, turned to face him head on and stick its tongue out. 

Okay, Raphael wanted to note, that graffiti skull could go fuck itself, having the nerve to stick its tongue out at him. 

Third time's the charm, Raphael told himself. He tried again, and this time, the blue flames engulfed his hands. The wall warped himself and he could see a restaurant on the other side. 

He stepped through, and was mildly surprised by what he saw. There were various mutants everywhere in the restaurant; sitting at the tables, waiting tables, in the kitchen, it was a sight for Raphael to take in. He had seen various places and planets where he and his brothers were openly accepted—minus the fact they were fugitives—but he had never seen such a place like this on Earth and so close in his grasp. 

Raphael took in the sight a little longer, before he moved away from the entrance of the restaurant, and got covered face first in neon green slime. 

Disgusted, Raphael moved to wipe the slime off his face, and looked down when he felt someone poke him. 

There was a small little girl, with bright yellow eyes and green slimy skin staring up at him. "Hi," she said. 

"Hi," he said back slowly. 

"Can you give me back that slime? That's my daddy and he needs it to reform again," she asked and he stared at her with wide eyes, then looked up to stare into the distance as if he was in _The Office._

"This is your _dad?"_ Raphael parroted back, to make sure he heard her correctly. 

She nodded. 

Raphael could really only say one thing: what the fuck. But there's a small child in front of him, and he's not going to _consciously_ swear in front of them if he could help it. So for now, he'll keep any and all confused and confounded thoughts to himself. 

"So are you going to give me my Daddy back?" she asked. 

"Uhh right. Yea, hold on," he said awkwardly, gently scraping the slime off his face and handing it to the little girl. "Is that it?"

"Mmhmm! Should be!" she chirped, before turning around, giving it to her half formed father—wow, how did he _not_ see that?—who seemed to have fully reformed himself and turned to face Raphael. 

Wow. This dude is short. He had to be shorter than both Splinters. "Thank you!!" he said. "You must be a first time customer!"

"What makes you think that?" 

"Most customers move to cover their faces right when I explode!" he explained with a smile. When he had said that, Raphael looked around to see most of the other customers holding up their menus to their faces, and it made him stick out like a sore thumb even more. "I'm Exploding Frankie! This little ball of sunshine is my daughter Sunita! What brings you here to this fine establishment?"

Raphael blinked. What _had_ brought him here? "I… I don't know," he answered honestly. "I just saw a lady enter here and I was curious." 

"Huh," said Exploding Frankie. Noticing his daughter still standing there, "Why don't you run along and play my dear?"

"Okay daddy!" 

"This is a nice restaurant for us mutants," Raphael mused aloud. 

Frankie looked at him strangely. "Mutants?" he questioned. "I've never heard of that word used to describe us. We aren't 'mutants.'"

"Well then… what are you?" 

"We're yokai," Frankie clarified. 

Yokai? Like the yokai from the tales that his father would tell them when they were young? They _existed?_

This world had a lot more up its sleeves than Raphael had anticipated. 

"Huh," was all that Raphael could say. 

"If you're looking for a job here," Frankie started, "I could hook you up with Hueso, the owner of the restaurant."

A job sounded nice. If he got a job, Raphael could help Splinter get food, clothes for the winter, and all of the other things that they needed in the lair. Nodding his head, "So, where is this Hueso guy?" 

"He's in the back!" Frankie said. "Let me take you to him."

"Yeah, sure," said Raphael, allowing himself to be led to the back of the restaurant, the two stopping in front of a closed door. 

Frankie knocked on the door and yelled, "Hueso! Got someone inquiring about a job." 

A second later, the door opened and a well dressed skeleton yokai appeared in front of Raphael and Frankie. The skeleton yokai, Hueso, looked at Raphael and then looked at Frankie. 

"Is this them?" Hueso asked. Frankie nodded. 

Hueso waved off Frankie. "Alright, leave us be," he said, and then to Raphael, "Let's talk in my office." 

Raphael, at Hueso's behest, entered the office, with Hueso closing the door behind him. 

"Let's start this, 'interview', on the right note. What's your name?" 

“Raphael,” the turtle answered. “Raphael Splinterson.”

“Alright, how old are you Raphael?”

“Eighteen,” Raphael said. 

"So, you want a job here," Hueso said. 

"If you're offering one," Raphael shot back. 

"What skills do you have?" said Hueso, who then tilted his head and pointed at the teenager's sais. "What do you use those… weapons of yours for?" 

"Self-defense," Raphael answered easily. 

Hueso nodded his head slightly. "I see," he said slowly. "And do you use those to keep others safe?"

A derisive snort escaped Raphael. "Yes," he answered. If only Hueso knew of the things that Raphael and his brothers had gotten up to. Saving the city, stopping intergalactic wars, defeating tyrants, stopping gangs, protecting fugitives, the works. Whatever Hueso was planning on offering him would be a piece of cake compared to that. 

Hueso leaned back against his desk. "How about you come in tomorrow, as a trial run as my security guy?" Hueso offered with a grin.

"And if I do well?" Raphael ventured. 

"If I like how you perform, then you are hired," Hueso said. "Perhaps we can show you a few things once you're here for a while."

"Alright," said Raphael. "What time am I coming in tomorrow?"

Hueso sucked in his teeth. "How about around this time tomorrow night? Maybe seven?" 

"Sounds good," replied Raphael. 

"Oh, and Raphael?”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure you don’t pull out those prongs of yours unless absolutely necessary.”

* * *

And so, the next night, when the Tots went to sleep and his brothers were doing their own thing, Raphael went out to the restaurant. He went through the process of getting the wall to open up again, and he stepped back into the chaos of the restaurant. 

He sought out Exploding Frankie, and was surprised to find that the slime yokai didn’t have his daughter close to him. When he found Frankie, the yokai lit up at the sight of Raphael. “It’s you!!” he exclaimed. “So I take it that Hueso hired you?”

“Nah,” responded Raphael. “Tonight’s a trial run of sorts, Bone Guy says if he likes how I perform tonight, then I’m hired.” 

“Trial run, eh?” Frankie inquired. “What’s he got you doing?”

“Security,” said Raphael. 

“Huh,” Frankie said. “I’ve been working as an entertainer for about a year or so, I don’t think we’ve ever really needed security,”

Raphael shrugged his shoulders. “If yokai are anything like humans, then it won’t take much for them to become unhinged and unruly,” he said. “He also said I could learn other things once I’ve been here for a while.”

Frankie nodded his head. “I see,” and then Frankie gently slapped Raphael’s arm. “Well good luck, son!”

“Ah, thanks. But uhh, could you take me to Hueso’s office?” asked Raphael. 

“Of course, my boy!” Frankie said, gesturing for the turtle to follow him in the back, towards Hueso’s office and knocked on the yokai’s door. 

Hueso’s voice boomed through the door. “Come in!” 

Frankie opened the door for Raphael. “Good luck my boy,” Frankie said again, as Raphael walked in the office and the younger turtle awkwardly smiled back at him. Frankie closed the door on his way out, leaving Raphael and Hueso alone in the office again. 

“You came,” said Hueso happily, clapping his hands as he stood up. 

“Were you expecting me not to?” snarked Raphael. 

Hueso laughed. “No, No, Rojo, I am just very glad that you have arrived,” he said. “Let’s get you started on your job trial.”

* * *

Raphael felt something needed to be very clear: Raphael did not like people. Raphael was not a very social turtle. 

So being in a loud, crowded restaurant was a form of hell for Raphael, but he’s managed to handle it by talking to the little girl—Sunita, wasn’t it?—from the night before. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked. 

“Working,” said Raphael.

Sunita cocked her head to the side. “You aren’t doing what my Daddy does, or what the other yokai do,” she noted. 

“I’m working security,” he said, flicking his gaze back to the yokai in the restaurant. So far, no one seemed suspicious. 

“What’s security?”

Raphael tapped his chin. “I make sure that everyone here is safe,” he explained to the young child.

“What you use them big forks for? Eating?” 

A chuckle escaped out of the turtle. “No, could you imagine how silly I’d look? _Eating_ with them?” he said in an exaggerated whisper. 

Sunita giggled into her hands. “Silly!” agreed the little girl. “If you don’t eat with them, then what do you do with them.”

“I use them to keep the bad guys away.”

“No bad guys here?” she queried. 

“No bad guys here,” he confirmed. 

“You’re a good guy then. Good in my books!!” she said with a sagely nod. Raphael found it hard not to laugh at the little girl’s enthusiasm. 

Raphael gave a sage nod of his own. “What do you do around here kiddo?”

Sunita talked about the things she usually did around the restaurant while Raphael kept an eye on the customers and workers.. They were still loud, still a bit rowdy but he supposed that was to be suspected for a packed restaurant on a busy night; yet, there was no sign of danger that tipped off his warning bells. He continued talking to Sunita, occasionally shifting his attention away from the little girl to observe anyone who appeared to act suspicious to him. 

To his relief, there hadn’t been any suspicious activity or any ruckus that needed him to interfere. 

He continued his watch over the restaurant as he talked to Sunita. Over time, the restaurant emptied itself out, until it was just Raphael, Hueso, Sunita, Frankie, and the employees left. 

“Rojo,” said Hueso, as he emerged from his office. Noticing Sunita, he tipped his hat at her. “Sunita.”

“Hey Hueso!” she said, then pointed at Raphael. “This is my new friend!”

“Ah, so you say?” Hueso said. Seeing her fervently nod, he laughed at her infectious energy. “Little Senorita, Rojo and I need to have a ‘adult talk’, so do you mind finding your daddy?”

“Bye bye Raphie!! See you tomorrow!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around the turtle’s leg to hug him. Raphael hid a smile, patting the little girl's head before she ran off. 

As soon as Sunita was out of sight, Raphael instantly asked. “So, how’d I do?”

“I’ve put you on the schedule for tomorrow,” Hueso said simply. “You think you can come in tomorrow night?”

“Hell yeah I can.”

“Welcome to Run of the Mill, Rojo.”

* * *

It was sometime after midnight, closer to one am when Raphael finally made his way back to the lair, and to the worried faces of his brothers and Splinter. 

He wasn’t expecting that. Though to be fair, he totally should have. He really should have seen this coming. His brothers and father were always worried about him if he stayed topside by himself for too long, and that was a result of all the adventures that they’ve gone on, making them a little bit more dependent and, if he dare say it, clingy. He knew that he could handle himself, they knew that he could handle himself, but that still didn’t help the worry that would build up in their hearts.

“Raphael, where were you?” Leonardo asked. 

“We were worried that something had happened to you,” said Michelangelo. “Dee even called your Shell-Cell several times-”

Donatello waved Raphael’s phone for all of them to see. “Only to find that you had left it behind in the lair,” finished Donatello. “Where _were you?_ What if something happened to you? _”_

Okay, how did he go about telling them about this new job of his? Best first course of action for him seemed to be apologizing for the worry he put his family through. “Look guys,” he started off clumsily. Apologies weren’t really his thing, but he always knew when he needed to give one. “I’m really, _really_ sorry that I made you all worry like that. I know I always give you all shell for doing this sorta stuff and then I turn around and do it, but I’m sorry.”

His brothers looked between themselves before nodding, and bringing him in for a hug, signaling that they had forgiven him. They stayed in the hug for a few moments before pulling back. 

“I, uhh, I got a job,” Raphael said finally. Best to get that little bandaid off. 

“How’d you get a job without anyone questioning... well, all of this?” questioned Leonardo, making a vague gesture to the four turtles.. “Do you know what we are?”

“Of course I do, I sure hope I would after hearing Mikey make cracks about it for eighteen years,” snarked Raphael, smirking at Michelangelo's offended little ‘Hey!’

“Okay, but that still doesn’t answer how you got the job or what even is this job?” said Donatello. 

“Yeah dude, what if they got you like, working as, like, a middleman for something shady?” questioned Michelangelo. 

Raphael frowned at them. “It’s nothing like that,” he reassured them. “I’m working security at a yokai restaurant.”

At his brothers curiously whispering, _“Yokai?,_ Splinter cut in with a harsh _“No,”_ that had been much harsher and colder than he had ever been in Raphael’s life.

“But why not?” Raphael challenged. “It’s in a restaurant where they _look like us!_ The pay seems to be good too! We need the money!”

It didn’t seem to persuade Splinter, who shook his head. “You will not be returning to that job tomorrow,” he said emphatically.

“I don’t have a choice not to! I’m already scheduled!” Why wasn’t Sensei getting it? Why did he want him to turn on a commitment that he was supposed to honor? Wasn’t honor supposed to be his whole shtick anyways?

“They will find another to fill in your position,” argued Splinter. 

“But Sensei,” Michelangelo cut in. “Shouldn’t Raphie honor whatever he’s been hired to do? You taught us to honor our commitments and promises.”

“Doesn’t that say something about us when we don’t fulfill our promises?” asked Donatello, who was all the more confused. 

Then Splinter let out a bitter laugh, something that sounded foreign to the four turtles. “When has honor done anything but make me miserable?” he spat out. “Honor will get you nowhere.”

“Father, why would you say something like that?” asked Leonardo. “Why would you turn your back on the path of honor when you’ve taught us it?”

“Because honor hurts,” said Splinter. “Honor takes everything you love away from you, and it took everything away from me.”

Raphael wasn’t sure what to do. The only thing he felt he could do was to push, push as to why his dad didn’t want him to take this job, why he was so against honor, why he just seemed so bitter and cynical, the exact opposite of the warm and open father that he had grown up with and loved. “We need the money, Dad. We have to take care of each other, I can’t give up something that would _help_ us,” he challenged again, because what Splinter wanted him to do made no sense whatsoever, not when it would hurt them. “Dad, give me one good reason why I should quit-”

_“THEY TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!”_ Splinter yelled back, and Rapheal unexpectedly flinched, taken aback by how his voice wavered in rage and resentment. Then he angrily gestured to his short stature, hands balled up in clenched fists and shaking in hatred as he did so, and Raphael could _feel_ the hatred and enmity rolling off of him. _“THEY MADE ME WHO I AM!”_

And then Raphael stopped, stopped pushing as his father continued. “The yokai and the Hidden City are _dangerous,_ who will do nothing but strip you of everything that matters to you,” Splinter explained tiredly. 

Michelangelo, as perceptive as he was, asked, “Is that how you got the little guys?”

Splinter didn’t answer, and Raphael took that as a yes. 

“But Dad,” Raphael tried. “I-I didn’t go to this Hidden City place. It’s just a restaurant run by a skeleton, an exploding slimeball, and his daughter.”

Splinter raised an eyebrow. “You… you did not venture to the Hidden City?” he asked. 

Raphael shook his head. “It’s a restaurant that’s topside,” he explained. “But Dad, I-I need this job.”

“What for?”

“To take care of us,” said Raphael honestly.

The mutant rat beckoned Raphael and the three turtles to bend down to his level. “My sons,” he began tiredly and voice heavy with emotion. “It is-it’s-God I’m bad at with words. It’s not your job to take care of us. That’s my job.”

“You need help though,” protested Donatello. “You can’t do it all by yourself.”

Leonardo silently nodded his head. “Yeah, Raphael was onto something by getting a job,” he said. “Maybe we can all get a job or something?”

Splinter tried to protest but was shut down by Michelangelo. “Father, we wanna do this,” he said simply.

“It is dangerous,” he said. “What would I do if you got hurt?” 

“We can get through anything as long as we have each other,” said Leonardo. What a cheesy sap, Raphael didn’t say aloud, even though he knew that the statement had proven itself true so many times from all of their adventures, and would continue to be true, no matter what they got themselves into. 

The rat mutant stopped his protests, brought his older sons into a warm hug, pressing a kiss on top of each of their foreheads and an earnest, _“Thank you,”_ escaped Splinter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a kudos and comment! Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
